


Birds of a Feather

by WickedWiles



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: A Chase as Foreplay, F/M, Is it Technically a Threesome if One of You is an Illusion, Maybe Threesome, Ninja Questline (Final Fantasy XIV), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Shameless Theatrics, Spoilers, Unapproved Use of Ninjutsu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:35:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26228794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedWiles/pseuds/WickedWiles
Summary: A handsome crow and a beautiful, wicked bird take a moment to nest amidst the storm.
Relationships: Karasu Redbeak/Warrior of Light
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Birds of a Feather

**Author's Note:**

> I've loved Karasu since he first showed up in the Ninja questline. This work was always inevitable, just waiting for me to get to 70 and discover it. So here we are, banged out in the course of a day, rough and probably silly and eccentric, but hey...that's why we love him.

“You've come far, my little chick! I daresay you could teach the dim one a lesson or two.”

Vieryne glanced at the eccentric shinobi from the corner of her eye as he clapped vigorously, with no hint of his usual mockery in his tone. Her pulse still pounding from the battle, she couldn't help but notice the way his eyes were alight with his own rush of adrenaline, behind the familiar, irreverent demeanor. Heat surged through her veins, demanding; such a _sedate_ ending to this dance simply would not do.

“Spare Oboro the details – I have a reputation to uphold, after all – but it was rather exhilarating to fight on the same side for once. We really should do it again sometime. Till we meet again, exit our hero – stage right!”

With a surprising disregard for any sort of flair, Karasu began to walk away, but she stepped easily into his path, placing a hand on his chest.

“Are you not forgetting something, _hero_?” Her lips curled into a smirk, looking up at him through her lashes. He tilted his head to the side, considering.

“The cunning plan, the bold double-cross, the dramatic reveal, followed by a thrilling triumph – no, my friend, our hero has delivered a masterful performance of all the scenes in this act.”

“And what of the hero's well-earned reward?” She slid her hand over his breastplate, toying with the ends of his hair, jade twisting through shadow. Letting her lips part ever so slightly, she met his eyes again, a carefully crafted suggestion emphasized with a faint blush. Understanding flashed across his features, a spark of interest dancing in his dark blue gaze.

“Ah, but of course. It is only fitting that one so handsome would inspire such accolades.”

“But of course,” she echoed in a soft exhale, leaning up even as he began to bend down to meet her. Their lips brushed, warm breath mingling in a visible mist against the chill night air. His hands strayed from the hilts of his blades for but a moment, hovering near her waist.

It was all the opportunity she needed.

When the smoke from her ninjutsu cleared, leaving him on his arse in the sand, his eyes found her instantly, perched high on one of the rocky formations nearby, crouched down with her hand resting on her chin, her smirk undiminished. Her other hand held his belt, weapons still neatly sheathed, dangling from her fingertips.

“He need only rise to the challenge to _claim_ it.”

Karasu laughed freely, and in the blink of an eye, he vanished from sight. His deep, amused murmur reverberated close behind her.

“Challenge _accepted_ , little bird.”

She smiled slyly, shifting her weight back for an instant as if she would lean back against him – then sprang forward, bounding away to the top of another jagged boulder, feeling the change in the air as he pursued.

“A fully-fledged bird, am I now...I'm moving up in the world, it seems.” She landed lightly, turning to face him for just a moment, then leaping backwards as he landed on her recently-vacated perch.

“A hero needs a rival of equal skill, lest the story lose its suspense, don't you think?” His form blurred and faded, his warmth radiating from behind her in the next instant. “You and I could write a tale unlike any other to have graced the realm's stage.”

Laughing, she spun out of reach. “Such confidence from one who hasn't even caught his prize yet.”

He held up the outer coat of her togi – she'd not even felt him untie the ribbon at the front – and the long red and gold tails designed to be reminiscent of firebird feathers swayed with the breeze. Lifting it to his face, he inhaled slowly, glancing sidelong at her as he grinned.

“Such passion! Such intrigue! The audience gasps, the anticipation overwhelming! Our hero has his quarry's scent; the hunt has only just begun.”

She couldn't say how long they continued their game, drawing close enough for clever displays of sleight of hand before the chase renewed; she severed the straps of his breastplate, and he in turn caught hold of her gloves, forcing her to slip out of them to make her escape. But her path was not aimless or without end. As her destination drew near, she seemed to falter, slowing to look back and see if he was still in pursuit.

A flash of red appeared beside her as if from thin air, and his arms wrapped around her waist, sending them both rolling to the ground. When the dust settled, she was sitting on his now-unarmored chest, one of her daggers at his throat, a hairsbreadth from pressing into soft, vulnerable skin. He spread his hands wide, feigning shock.

“Such a _prickly_ reception! Whatever could our hero have done to deserve this?”

“You have tried to _kill_ me, at least twice, in point of fact.” She bent forward to nip at his lower lip teasingly, and he shivered with a delighted chuckle.

“Ah, I seem to recall you rather _enthusiastically_ reciprocated on each occasion, little bird.” His fingertips pressed gently above her knees, sliding slowly up over her thighs. “But let us not dwell on performances past.” His gaze dropped to the hand wrapped around the hilt of her blade. “When the lights dim and the curtains fall, what further need have the players of such trappings? 'Tis an hour of truth and trust, is it not?”

“I trust you as far as I can throw you, my charming crow.” She sat up, smirking down at him for a moment before the blade vanished with a practiced flick of her wrist. “...which luckily for you, is far enough.” Standing, she pulled him to his feet and into a fierce, hungry kiss, cutting off the inevitable retort she knew he had prepared.

He responded eagerly, fingers sliding through her hair and over her waist as their tongues tasted and tested one another, not battling for dominance or control, but matching movement for movement in a duel of skill. When they broke apart, breathless, he seemed unwilling to leave off completely, continuing to press kisses to the corners of her mouth and along her jaw, or teasing his tongue across her lips between words.

“Alas, this is a poor stage for such a performance of passion, but our hero will rise to the occasion nonetheless, for such a partner cannot be left _wanting_.”

She laughed again, dancing free of his grasp, backing towards a crevice in the rocky terrain, beckoning him to follow. “You should know better by now than to think I am that unprepared.”

Slipping through easily, she glanced back to watch his expression as he stepped out into the hidden clearing, taking in the sight of her tent already set.

“Oho! The little bird has a _nest_ ,” he chortled, balancing on one foot, head cocked to the side to watch her intently. She kept her back to him as she shrugged, a movement that just so happened to dislodge the undershirt of her togi, sending it fluttering to the ground, his eyes following it before snapping back to her. Stretching languidly, more so than was really necessary, she bent to unlace her boots, kicking them off unceremoniously before hooking her thumbs under the waistband of her pants.

A pointed look back over her shoulder had him hastily removing the last bits of his own armor, and she smiled to herself; she should've guessed his smalls would be as flashy as the rest of him, dyed the same blood red as his armor, tight enough to leave little to the imagination – including his current excitement about the situation.

Discarding her pants behind her, she ducked through the opening, letting the flap fall closed. It had barely even settled before an arm wrapped around her from behind, his hand sliding over her stomach as he kissed the back of her neck and shoulders.

“It seems there is more to envy about the dim one's station than I thought...to have you at his side, and yet be so unworthy of the honor...however do you put up with him?” He sighed heavily, stroking her tail, and she nearly moaned as his thumb pressed on the base. “Is there nothing our hero can do to save you from his utter _dullness_?”

Turning in his embrace, she pulled him into another heated kiss, hands roaming over the lithe muscle of his chest.

“My crow...as temping as it is to silence that tongue of yours...I desire to hear you _sing_.”

She dropped to her knees, pulling down the crimson cloth to free his erection, licking it from base to tip before closing her lips over the head. And sing he did, as she slid his length in and out of the wet heat of her mouth, fingers toying with his heavy sack; a chorus of moans and sighs, every bit as theatrical as his normal speech, though a good deal more sincere than she was accustomed to hearing from him. His fingers curled in her hair and brushed along the length of her horns, not pushing or demanding, but simply encouraging.

Pulling off for a moment, she flicked her tongue across the head, savoring the taste of his arousal as she looked up at him; his eyes half-closed, lips still flushed and swollen from their kisses, parted as he moaned once more, his hips twitching forwards as if to seek to bury himself in her mouth again. But it was her turn to be surprised as he held her back from taking him in, tilting her chin up with a fingertip.

“I would not be spent so soon, when there is so much I have yet to show you.” In the blink of an eye, he was behind her, pressing her shoulders down gently until she was on her hands and knees. Bending over to kiss her spine, he whispered against her scales. “Last chance to bow out of the scene, little bird.”

“Still afraid of being upstaged?” She arched her back, pressing towards him, her tail flicking against his side. “Show me the vaunted skills you claim, if you have the stones for it.”

“Considering how _thoroughly_ you were fondling them, I wouldn't think that would be in question.”

Her retort faded into a soft groan as she felt a finger push aside her smallclothes and into her, swiftly joined by a second. Already slick from her own desire, grown hotter and more insistent with every noise he'd made under the ministrations of her mouth and tongue, he slid the digits in and out easily, though he stopped them just short of curling right were she _needed_ , drawing a frustrated whine from her.

“Patience, my friend...you're learning from the best now. And I can show you things that your tradition-tethered, unimaginative, dim old Oboro would never _dream_ of.” He pulled her up so her back was flush against his chest, leaning back to support her weight against him, his laughter soft against her hair. His hand flashed in front of her eyes in several swift mudras she couldn't begin to follow. “Starting with a new trick...”

A brief flash of light, and another Karasu was kneeling before her, just as bare and aroused as the original behind her. The mirrored copy grinned that same self-satisfied grin up at her, and she had to glance back over her shoulder just to assure herself he was, in fact, still there.

He claimed her mouth as soon as she did, practically purring with his own smugness into the kiss before pulling back. “You see? There are no limits to what _I_ can do, unlike some others.”

Anything she might have had to say was lost from her mind with the feeling of her smalls being fully torn away, the sensation of a hot, wet tongue lapping at her folds, and her head fell back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed. The mirror continued, in perfect time with Karasu's fingers thrusting deeper and faster inside her, finally, _finally_ moving to press against that place that had her crying out and clenching around them.

His fingers withdrew, only to be replaced by the searing heat of his length pushing into her, even as the ripples of her climax still trembled through her.

Infuriatingly, both Karasu and the mirror ceased moving once he was fully hilted. She squirmed impatiently, and his breath hitched in a sharp hiss. Opening her eyes slightly, she could see his jaw clenched, and the desperate struggle to hold on to his composure, humorously reflected on the copy that hovered between her legs.

A slow, sly smile cross her lips, and she ground back against him with deliberate mischief, moaning wantonly for extra effect at the new spike of pleasure that raced through her core. She set her own primal rhythm, the feeling of having wrested control only adding to the thrill of it all. His fingertips dug into her hips, almost hard enough to bruise, his mouth falling open as he panted out his words as best he could between low, keening cries of his own.

“Oh, you are...a _treasure_ , little bird...our hero – swept to the brink – so warm...so _tight_...by the bloody kami!”

The mirror in front of her was equally lost in bliss, giving her a heady view of his eyes, blown wide and glazed with lust as he stared up at her. She tangled her fingers in the dark hair, pushing his face forward.

Karasu had enough wit left to take the hint, and the mirror's tongue darted out to circle and flick over her sensitive bud. Everything faded as the world narrowed to the feel of him on both sides, and the obscene, wet sounds of their union.

His hands were suddenly at her neglected breasts, rolling and tugging at her taught nipples, and at the same moment the mirror wrapped his lips around her clit and gave a firm _suck_ , driving her aching need to another crescendo. She fairly screamed her ecstasy to the heavens, and he pressed hard into her with a breathless, broken roar, his heat pulsing and throbbing as her body spasmed around him.

The mirror discorporated in a shower of crimson sparks as he lost the last of his focus on the technique, and they collapsed together, every last bit of their adrenaline spent. Her body felt absolutely boneless, and she didn't even have the energy – or care – to lift herself from his softening length.

“You are wasted with them, tethered to traditions, little bird.” He nuzzled her neck, arms wrapped around her, seeming similarly disinclined to move. “Particularly when you could spread your wings and fly free, with a handsome crow at your wing.”

She snorted, reaching up to stroke his hair. “And when the crow tires of his treasure, distracted by a new glint? Nay, I think not.”

“Ah, the tragedy, the yearning! The audience sobs their heartbreak.” He kissed her cheek lightly. “As you would have it then...we shall make the most of our performance in the moment.” His hands roamed over her sides, teasing along the edges of scales, following them over her thighs.

“Should we meet again...perhaps an encore will be in order.”

**Author's Note:**

> Her tent is huge, okay?
> 
> Also I'm fairly sure none of this is how ninjutsu works, but in these parts, we just follow canon down dark alleys, knock it out and go through its pockets for loose plot points.
> 
> I am sure I will go back and catch mistakes in this later, given how quickly it was done and on how little sleep. Cheers!
> 
> Also, join the [Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched and Enabling Book Club](https://discord.gg/enabling-debauched-xivfic). It's fun, hornsome, and awesome.


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